The Dread: The Fallen Kings Cycle: Book Two by Gail Z. Martin

ambassadors.”
    Jonmarc gave her a look that he knew she would read correctly. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”
    Berry regained her solemn expression and returned her attention to the seated group. “Gentlemen, you know what we’re facing. The Winter Kingdoms hasn’t seen an invader from beyond the Northern Sea in generations. You and your forces are the only thing standing between Principality and invasion. I pray to the Lady for your success.” With that,Berry rose and swept out of the room, followed closely by Jencin and surrounded by the palace guards. The rest filed from their places without conversation and scattered in different directions as they left the war room.
    Jonmarc headed down the corridor toward the stairs that would take him to Aidane’s rooms. After the briefing, he’d come up with quite a few questions for the
serroquette
.
    “Vahanian! I’d like a word with you.”
    Jonmarc’s hand was on the pommel of his sword as he turned. He recognized the voice even before the figure of a man strode into the torch light. Gregor.
    “You went over my head to Valjan and Hant. Why?” Gregor was a dark-haired man with intelligent brown eyes and a hard line to his mouth. Years ago, Carina had been unable to save Gregor’s brother. Gregor had never forgiven that, and the few times he and Jonmarc had crossed paths had not been pleasant.
    Jonmarc stood his ground, hand firmly on his sword. “Because I knew they’d listen. And you wouldn’t.”
    “You brought that damned ghost whore into the palace.”
    Jonmarc clenched his jaw. “Aidane carried essential intelligence information to the queen at great personal risk, and she put herself further at risk to identify the traitors at the coronation. She saved the queen’s life.”
    Gregor’s lip twisted. “You’d know all about whores and that ilk. You shame the queen with your presence and with the vermin you bring with you.”
    A killing glint came into Jonmarc’s eyes. “And what ‘vermin’ would that be?”
    Gregor spat to one side. “Whores. Biters. Shifters. You probably had something to do with the fact that we’re coddling that Eastmark prince, didn’t you?”
    “Gethin is here at the invitation of King Staden. I had nothing to do with it.” Jonmarc paused. “And he hardly needs coddling. He’s much better in a fight than you are.”
    Gregor reddened, and Jonmarc thought the general might swing at him. Veins stood out on Gregor’s neck, and Jonmarc guessed that it was taking great effort for Gregor to control himself. “I’ve heard the stories about you. My brother and I were mercs, too. We fought for those bloody Eastmark bastards who thought they were too good for us, for
sathirinim
. You should know that. They betrayed you worse than anyone.”
    Jonmarc was losing his fight to keep his temper. “So one minute I’m vermin, and the next I’m a martyr?”
    “You leave a trail of dead men in your wake, Vahanian. I don’t trust you, your biter friends, or the Eastmark bastards. They threw our mercs into the front lines first, to draw fire before they risked their own precious skins. And now they send one of theirs to marry the queen, and you, of all people, you’re going to stand for it?”
    Jonmarc saw the glint of Gregor’s drawn blade and parried fast and hard. Practice against
vayash moru
opponents gave him an edge in strength and speed. He sent Gregor’s sword scuttling down the corridor, and he body-slammed the general against the corridor wall.
    “Take your opinions about Eastmark and shove them up your ass.” Jonmarc’s voice was a hiss, close to Gregor’s ear. Gregor struggled, but Jonmarc kept him pinned with a blade at the general’s throat. “I’ve been betrayed by too many people to blame it on anything more than old-fashioned greed.”
    He twitched the blade slightly under Gregor’s chin, raising a thin line of blood. “This is the second time I’velet you off without breaking some bones or running you